


Organism M: Reinhardt Pt.1

by Golden_Holden



Series: Organism M [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Background Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada, Body Horror, Body Modification, Bottom Reinhardt Wilhelm, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dubious Consent, Extremely Dubious Consent, First Time Bottoming, Hallucinations, M/M, Mind Break, Mind Control, Mind Manipulation, Mind Rape, Mpreg, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Other, Parasites, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn With Plot, Psychological Torture, Tentacle Rape, Tentacles, Top Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison, Torture, actually, just a sprinkle of plot, monster fucking, non-binary Lucio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:34:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26244250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Golden_Holden/pseuds/Golden_Holden
Summary: The burly Crusader notices some unsettling changes to his body, followed by a bizarre yet familiar wet dream.
Relationships: Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada, Jesse McCree/Reinhardt Wilhelm, Jesse McCree/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison, Lúcio Correia dos Santos/Hana "D.Va" Song, Lúcio Correia dos Santos/Reinhardt Wilhelm, Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Reinhardt Wilhelm, Reinhardt Wilhelm/parasite, Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison/Reinhardt Wilhelm
Series: Organism M [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1903165
Comments: 15
Kudos: 62





	Organism M: Reinhardt Pt.1

**Author's Note:**

> Reinhardt gets a taste of what's to come.

Reinhardt looked over the airy atrium of Overwatch HQ2. Crystal glass railing fenced identical kidney-shaped floors, more for aesthetic than safety. Luscious leaves dotted with little pastel flowers filled glossy white planters all along the railings of each floor. The base was beautiful and elegant, more like an upscale shopping mall than a military installation. The air smelled vaguely of some sweet flower Reinhardt couldn't name. It all seemed so sterile, so terribly fragile.

 _A literal glass house_.

Jack padded alongside, and Rein could feel the man's eyes on him. It was a gaze of cloying sympathy that, while adorable coming from a gruff soldier like Jack Morrison, was ultimately unwanted. The way Jack looked at him made him feel as if he was also made of brittle glass and thin, varnished wood. Reinhardt reminisced about the harsh fluorescents that dotted the hallways of Watchpoint Gibraltar. The glossy white corridor in which they tread seemed to extend beyond infinity, uniformly lit with an ethereal glow that came from everywhere, leading them to nowhere. He missed the inch-thick steel shuttle bay doors, the constant smell of motor oil, and most of all, the sun-drenched practice range looking over the south coast of Spain. On a cloudless day, he could squint and make out the tip of Africa. He missed when they were young, and their fight was undoubtedly right. Rein wondered if his old friend felt the same way.

Suddenly, something grazed his chest, and the Crusader froze. It was an eerily familiar sensation he couldn't name, yet when he smoothed down his white tank top, there was nothing there.

"You alright, soldier?" Jack asked, halting mid-stride.

Reinhardt’s attention snapped from reverie to Jack's worried expression. He realized he was gripping the glass railing, a big hand leaving a discordant smudge of steam and finger oils on the otherwise pristine pane. "Ah, not to worry, Commander," he assured, jovial enough to convince even himself. "I have not been allowed to walk during my captivity, and it seems that my legs have forgotten how." Reinhardt laughed heartily, putting them both at ease.

"Take your time. Your new quarters are just up ahead." Jack turned around stiffly and led the way. "I know you wanted to be close to the mech bay, but we had to move you to the officers' level since the lower ones were filling up with recruits..."

The Commander's voice faded from Rein's attention as the same something grazed him again, slower this time as if wanting him to know it was real— only it wasn't. Rein cleared his throat nervously as he followed along. He felt it again: something smooth dragging along his hairy chest, slightly left of last time.

Ahead of him, Jack continued explaining, Reinhardt paid no attention. He jumped as it touched him in different spots, each time with more definition than the last, and less pause in between. The odd sensation grew warmer, wetter, more lingering as he walked. Reinhardt bit back a grunt when it grazed– no– licked, his nipple like a flat, wet tongue. Reinhardt's nipples had always been a weak spot of his. He blushed as he felt a rush of blood in his thick dormant manhood, embarrassed that his body couldn't distinguish between the real and the illusory.

"Rein, I'm serious. Are you sure you're okay?" Jack stopped, nearly getting run over by the distracted man.

"Of course," Rein smiled, pretending as if Jack's concern was as chimerical as the gradually intensifying sensation on his now erect nipple.

"Okay," Jack answered, clearly unconvinced. "Well, here's your new quarters. Get some rest and freshen up. If you want, come join me in the officer's lounge for dinner at eighteen-hundred." The super soldier pointed at the fingerprint reader by the door. Reinhardt pressed his thumb on the black panel, and the opaque glass door split open with a soft whoosh.

Reinhardt stepped in, grateful that they built the new base with doors tall enough for him to walk through without ducking. Beneath his form-fitting tank, the invisible tongue lapped at his nipple insistently, making his massive cock jump, threatening to tent his pants and embarrass him in front of the Commander.

"Yes. Yes, dinner sounds amazing," Reinhardt replied, trying to suppress the burn on his cheekbones. He prayed the Commander would leave soon.

"See you then," Jack eyed him reluctantly as the door began to close. Reinhardt sucked back a long sigh when the Commander's hand suddenly caught the door by its rubberized edge, making it obediently retreat into its grooves.

"Hey Rein, remember what I said. If you feel like something's wrong, whatever it is, no matter how small, you come straight to me, alright? That's an order." Jack tacked the last bit on, as if turning his friendly concern into a command would make the willful soldier more likely to heed him.

"Of course, Commander. If I didn't know better, I would think you're trying to keep an eye on me." Reinhardt chuckled as he scratched his chest, attempting to make it as innocuous as possible. A drop of sweat trickled down the back of his neck.

"Well, at seven feet, you're pretty hard to miss," Jack replied, and they shared another quiet laugh before the door hissed shut between them.

Reinhardt turned around with a deep sigh and scanned his room as quiet enveloped him. Everything was exactly as he remembered it. Whoever in charge of relocating his things did an excellent job of recreating his room. Every faded poster was pinned to the wall where it had been before, even the slight tilt in some that only he had noticed was faithfully present. Even the stale air still smells vaguely of the special grease he used on his armor.

The Lieutenant’s scuffed mirror frame still held his favorite photographs of times long past. He brushed his thumb lovingly across his comrades' youthful faces until he saw Gabriel Reyes' hooded figure, the only person in the group photo without a smile on his face. He tensed; it was a can of worms he didn't have the energy to open. All he needed to know was that the man who ruthlessly interrogated him for weeks was not the same as the one in the picture. Commander Gabriel Reyes had died long ago.

The licking sensation became salient again, an invisible tongue dragging across his skin. Rein shucked off his tank top to inspect himself in the mirror. Under his furry, scarred-riddled skin, his muscles twisted powerfully as he turned from left to right. At least his body, often the object of jealous glances in the locker room, was still sturdy and defined as ever, even after all he'd been through. Rein stared at his left pectoral. He felt the ghostly appendage roam, but saw nothing there.

The silver giant moaned in surprise when the invisible tongue suddenly dragged across his nipple again, leaving behind a trail of non-existent saliva that tingled from his warm breath. Reinhardt quickly shielded himself with a hand over his chest, but it was no use. The tongue continued to tease him beneath his palm as if his own hand was the immaterial party. He felt his cock harden from the sensation. It laved at his sensitive nipple slower, then faster, varying in speed and pressure, gradually settling into a pace that solicited the most responses from him.

 _”Ah-,”_ Reinhardt hung his head as the disembodied tongue assaulted his sensitive spot. Inside his loose joggers, his cock quickly rose to its full ten inches. _”Hmph_ ,” he grunted as luscious, warm lips suddenly enveloped his right nipple. The brawny Crusader's confusion quickly fogged over with want as two invisible mouths worked his nipples in tandem, quickly learning how to stimulate his hard nubs best. Rein bucked his hips forward unconsciously when a wet tongue began to trace quick circles around his areola, causing a delirious wash of pleasure from his cock as he ground against his dresser through the grey fabric of his pants.

As if being alerted of its brethren's discovery, the spectral mouth on his other pectoral quickly closed in on his vulnerable nipple, mirroring the other's motions and barely grazing the hypersensitive areola with quick, wet swirls.

Reinhardt panted as his immensely broad shoulders curled inward; his powerful hips began humping his dresser with a mind of their own. If the burly Crusader still had any capacity for thought, he would've been embarrassed by letting these imagined sensations reduce him to a twitching mess so quickly. He grunted rhythmically as he fucked the wooden surface, the combination of false and real stimulations bringing him steadily toward what he knew would be a satisfying release. Inside his pants, his thrusts became less frictional as his thick member drooled copiously, painting a large wet spot on his crotch as the exposed tip of his glans grazed the soaked fabric at the apex of each thrust, sending sparks of pleasure flashing behind his eyes.

 _”Ha, ha-”_ Rein rolled his hips in long, needy presses as his pleasure heightened and his balls drew up. But then, just as gradually as the imagined worshipping of his nipples came to be, it began to fade, the expertly timed licks grew ghostly and went slowly away.

Reinhardt whined as he felt his orgasm receding, his pre-cum drenched cock grinding against his dresser was not enough on its own. When his lust-addled mind cooled enough to think about what he had been doing just moments before, Rein felt a furious blush bloom across his face. The indignity of being made so horny by his own imagination that he would hump his dresser for relief like some cum-dumb teenager made him ashamed to look at himself in the mirror. No longer teetering on the precipice of release, Reinhardt was struck by just how bone-tired he was. Too drained to think on what exactly had transpired, the silver giant peeled off his soiled joggers reeking of musk and pre-cum and tossed them into a corner. A chore for another time.

Naked, he slumped face-first into his bed and drifted off.

* * *

The sharp noise of flesh slapping against hot flesh echoed plainly in the small concrete chamber. Next to the lone bulb dangling down the ceiling, a broken, rusted pipe dripped steadily into a puddle beneath. In the dark corner furthest from the barred furrow on the wall, Reinhardt kneeled chained to the floor on his hands and knees. A warm body mounted him from behind, taking him with abandon as if he was nothing more than a bitch in heat.

The proud Crusader tried to keep quiet at first, but every time the thick cock pistoning inside him stabbed against his prostate, bolts of pleasure dismantled a piece of his silence, and soon he found himself moaning. Though he tried to disguise the delicious noises leaking from his thin lips as indignant grunts, he knew as well as the man on his back that he was awash with pleasure.

"Enjoying ourselves?" A husky voice breathed in his ear. Before Reinhardt could muster a retort, the man snapped his hips brutally, driving his thick cock impossibly deep. The Crusader cried sharply as his arms gave out, sending his upper half collapsing onto the warm chest of another faceless body that miraculously appeared beneath him. He didn’t know whether the smaller man had always been there, perhaps overlooked as the mind-rending pleasure of being taken like a dog picked apart every thread of coherent thought. Then, he felt himself enter the man below him and it didn’t matter at all.

Rein panted deliriously as the wet heat swallowing his curved member clenched and spasmed around him. The smaller, faceless man parroted his sounds of pleasure as he licked and kissed at him mindlessly. A searing heat pressed against Rein's back when the bigger, more dominating presence from behind leaned down to nip at his ear, dipping in a wicked tongue that made Rein's shoulders draw up.

The men sandwiching the silver giant moved in flawless concurrence; as the one behind him thrust against Rein's pleasure spot, the other beneath him rolled his hips, welcoming him deeper into his tight, thrumming body.

Sensing that the captured Crusader was nearing his limit, the man behind gave another few savage snaps of his hips, finally pushing Reinhardt over the edge into a bone-shaking prostate orgasm. Reinhardt's tongue lolled out as he trembled and twitched. The thick veiny cock continued to fuck in and out of him in blazing, shallow thrusts meant to extend his climax for a long as humanly possible. Tears streamed down Rein's weathered face as wave after wave of white-hot pleasure assaulted his fragile consciousness. Every cell in his body focused on the singular task of cumming and cumming, deep and long.

The smaller man caged between Rein's beefy arms bucked up, fucking himself on the Crusader's drooling cock in tandem with the bigger man's thrusts, milking Rein toward another climax as soon as the first one began to recede. Reinhardt groaned weakly as he was forced to give up his seed. The faceless man beneath pulled him into a lewd kiss, muffling his lustful noises as their tongues slid wetly against each other. The squelching tightness around Rein clenched every time his massive cock pulsed and pumped the lean, receptive body full of his cum.

Right as his cock gave up the last ropes of his climax into the tight needy chute, the faceless body behind him would fuck him into the next mind-shattering orgasm, giving Rein no chance to rest whatsoever. The proud Crusader's eyes rolled up as wet moans and squelches filled his ears and mind to the brim. The nameless men continued to fuck and be fucked, forcing him through orgasm after orgasm that slowly melted minutes into hours and hours into years, washing away the proud soldier he once was and shaping his chiseled body into an empty vessel with the sole purpose of seeking and providing pleasures of the flesh.

* * *

Reinhardt startled awake in the midst of the monumental climax that he was denied earlier. He roused with all logic and reason stripped from him; it was all Rein could do to wrap his hands around his pulsing cock as the first thick ropes of jism shot out and landed on his face with a loud splat. His brain went completely blank as pleasure overtook him. Rein's massive body moved in pure animal instinct as he fucked his hands, heels dug deep into the mattress, toes curling as he bucked in sharp thrusts, flinging rope after rope of white, searing ecstasy all over his furry chest and belly.

When his lengthy climax finally subsided, his bedroom was permeated by the thick, pungent scent of sweat and sex. The naked giant panted as his cock continued to burp up thick rivulets of cum in random intervals, each wracking his body with electric aftershocks of his release. Reinhardt's eyes rolled up when a particularly intense spasm made his legs kick out, calves cramping up as his glistening fourteen-inch monster pumped out one final globule of hot seed before the Crusader finally went limp.

"My God, what is happening?" He muttered between deep, shuddering breaths and hooded eyes. Rein could not recall ever having a wet dream so intense, even in his horny teenage years. Though unexpected, the Crusader would be lying to himself if he didn't admit he wasn't thrilled by the thought of experiencing it again.

Reinhardt sprawled across his bed, utterly boneless. A muscled thigh thicker a man’s waist hung lazily over the edge as he caught his breath, swirling a finger absently in the cooling jism pooled on his chest. He lifted his hand against the dim sunlight filtering through the blinds and rubbed the sticky cream between his fingers. The heat radiating off his sweaty body accentuated the heady, musky scent of his release.

A sudden curiosity struck him: In all his years, he had never once tasted his own cum. _Surely, I am not the only man who had ever wondered such a thing, right? It couldn't be so wrong to taste just a tiny drop. Surely, Jack or McCree or Torbjörn had stared down at their seed after pleasuring themselves, and wondered the same thing, right? Right?_

Never one to ponder for too long, Reinhardt dipped his fingers into a puddle of his cum dripping down his flank and raised it to his lips. The potent smell of it was overwhelming, and he felt himself harden again at the thought of licking his fingers clean.

Hesitantly, Rein parted his lips...

**Author's Note:**

> Why write porn if you don't go all out? 
> 
> Leave a yeehaw and a like to encourage me to continue scrapping the bottom of the pit of depravity for y'all.
> 
> Oh, and remember to subscribe to get notified of new chapters!


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